Lotion
by ace.striker
Summary: Taking a deep breath, she detected the faint scent of lotion on his hands. For some reason, she was surprised. SouMaka.


Soul Eater is (c) Atsushi Ohkubo. I have NO IDEA where the hell the idea for this story (or whatever you'd call it) came from. I also had no idea how to end it. It feels kind of abrupt but I couldn't see myself writing anything longer than what I did. Go me. I SWEAR I will start to write stories for different pairings. I'm sure you're all getting tired of SouMaka by now, haha.

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Taking a deep breath, she detected the faint scent of lotion on his hands. For some reason, she was surprised.

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It was a rainy Sunday afternoon in Death City; a perfect day to stay inside. In her and Soul's dormitory, Maka was sitting on the far left side of the couch, engrossed in a non-fiction biography she had checked out from the library earlier that week. Soul was sitting in the middle of the couch, watching an old-timey mafia film on TV. Both were absorbed in their own worlds. However, and without warning, Maka looked up from her book, tilting her face towards the ceiling, her nose twitching slightly as she sniffed the air. "Is that you?" she asked, looking at Soul, who was paying more attention to the movie than to his technician at the moment.

"Huh?" The white-haired boy turned his head to look at Maka once he realized she had been talking to him. "Is what me?"

"That... smell. No, no, it's a good smell," Maka added quickly as Soul gave her a dirty look. "It smells like... like... almonds, almost." She sniffed again. "Maybe a little sweeter, though? I can't tell... " She wrinkled her nose as she thought out loud. "What is it?"

Soul rolled his eyes and turned back to watch TV again, annoyed that his movie had been interrupted over something so trivial. A few minutes passed before he spoke up. "It's probably my hand lotion, that's all," he sighed, shrugging. Maka, who had resumed reading a moment ago (although was still scrunching her nose in thought), now let the book drop into her lap and stared at Soul. The boy turned once again to look at his partner as he heard the book fall. "What?" he demanded.

"I don't know," Maka mused. "I guess I just never thought you were the kind of person who would use lotion." She laughed. "I'm interested now. Why do you put lotion on?"

Soul stared at the girl as if that were the stupidest question he'd ever heard. "Why not?" he snapped. "And why do you care?" He absently shifted his body farther from Maka, as though offended that she had been smelling him.

Maka scowled, as her question had obviously not been well-received. "Geez, I was just asking. You don't have to flip out or anything." She grumpily went back to reading her book, effectively dropping the subject.

Soul sighed again, thinking maybe he had been a little too defensive. Girls could be so touchy, though. "When I used to play the piano... you know, more often," he began hesitantly, slumping down into the couch, not particularly fond of that part of his life. Maka snapped her head back up, her interest returning. Soul noticed, and slumped down even farther. "Well... back then, my parents used to say, 'Your hands are your instruments; always keep them in good condition.'" He stretched his arms out in front of him and studied his instruments. "So they got me into the habit of always putting lotion on, every day, so they wouldn't get cracked or rough or anything like that." He turned to Maka and shrugged. "I guess the habit kinda stuck, so every now and then I'll put some on, just 'cause." The movie-watching resumed without incident, signaling to Maka that Soul had finished his story. Still curious, however, Maka crawled across the couch to where Soul was sitting, grabbed his left hand, and began to examine it. She rubbed the hand, sniffed it, and grinned.

"Ah, you're right!" Soul pulled his hand away.

"Maka, you weirdo! Leave me alone! Of course I'm right, duh, I just told you."

Maka pouted. "Well, I just wanted to make sure. Anyway, it smells nice. You should wear it more often."

Soul grunted. "Don't hold your breath."

However, the next day, as Meister and Weapon walked to class, Maka could smell the faint, almond-y lotion again, and she smiled to herself.


End file.
